Two Lieutenants
by goldfishlover73
Summary: A collection of Havoc and Hawkeye stories written mainly for the LJ FMA fanfic contest community
1. Mix Up

There had to be some mistake...some...

_She had a fistful of his shirt in her fist, dragging him up the stairs towards her apartment._

He lost his footing as she jerked him hard to the left, into a dimly lit hallway.

_They were at the bar with everyone and next- _she grabbed him by the dip in his neck as she switched arms to fish her keys out of her pocket. She looked up to him, smiling at him sweetly.  
He hadn't realized she was a girl-really a girl-until an hour ago.  
"So..."  
"Please don't talk Lieutenant." She said, opening the door. "This is a simple one night stand. After a few too many drinks." She added almost hastely.  
Havoc shrugged as she pulled him into her apartment. Hayate looked up from his small bed in the corner of the living room, but didn't move.  
She had his shirt off before he could blink. Her hands running up his chest and around his neck before he could react.  
Her lips on his before he could breathe.  
He vaguely noted the 'lack' of alcohol on her breathe as he took command. Leading her tumbling over the couch.

_Some…mix…up…_

She murmured his name and his mind went blank.


	2. One Cigarette

It was one of those late nights in the office again. Just the two of them. After their "late meetings" they'd come back to the office to finish up the heavy amount of "paperwork." That is, if anyone asked.

Usually it went like tonight; Both of their blue jackets were laying across their desk as Havoc was operated on. He was leaning back in his chair, trying not to squint at the bright light from one of the lamps Hawkeye pulled over to properly stitch up his forehead.

He sighed. "The things I do for the good of this country." he mumbled.

She hummed in agreement, pricking him with a needle as she stitched a gash above his eye. Out of his peripherals he saw her bring a small pair of scissors next to his eye. With a snip, she patted his shoulder, "You're good." he pulled himself up, raising his brows, testing the stretch of the thread. He pressed his bangs down, "Acceptable?"

She gave him a small smile. "Just don't run your hand through your hair in front of the superiors and you'll be fine." she crossed the small distance between his desk and hers, leaning causally against hers, legs crossed at the ankles.

He grinned, pulling his cigarettes out of his right pocket, his lighter out of his left. With one fluid motion, he flicked the top of the lighter and had it lit as he placed the cigarette in his mouth. He inhaled the warm smoke, sighing loudly as it entered his lungs.

He looked over to the Lieutenant Colonel. "You want one?"

If anyone from their team had heard him ask her that, they'd look at him like the gash to the head was more than five stitches. Or, they would have at least laughed. But these late night rendezvous (for lack of a better word) had made Havoc realize a lot about his only female coworker.

She gave him a curt nod. He tucked the lighter in the pack and tossed it gently to her. She expertly popped the cigarette and lighter out of the pack and with just as much skill, flipped, flicked and lit the stick with one fluid motion.

She took a long drag, leaning back on her desk, exhaling with a not-so-loud sigh. She tucked the lighter back in the pack and tossed it back.

"Thanks."

He shrugged, pocketing the pack. She moved from leaning on her desk to his as he pulled out the black ash tray Breda had swiped from a hotel a few years back-a Christmas gift or something.

She flicked the ash into the tray before bringing it back to her lips. Maybe it was because Havoc didn't know a lot of women that smoked, or because it was Hawkeye, but it turned him on a little bit.

But the more and more time he spent with her, the more the things she did turned him on-a little bit.

He leaned back in his chair, taking a hit of his own cig. "How's the dog?" This was also part of their routine. Small chit chat until the smoke had cleared. She'd open the window to air out the office (so it didn't smell like Havoc was chain smoking in here after hours) and then with jackets and piles of paper in hand they would leave, complaining loud enough for anyone still around to hear how lazy Mustang was.

"Well behaved." she said with a relaxed sigh. She looked at him with an odd expression.

He grinned, "At least we don't have to worry about what's his name anymore."

She smiled, blowing a haze of smoke out of almost pursed lips. Havoc shook his head. It was hypnotizing.

"I don't get why you don't tell anyone." he said, taking the time to take another drag. He waved his own cigarette for emphasis. "No one's going to give you shit." he laughed, "Maybe, it make you more intimidating."

She frowned. Flicking a bit of ash into the tray. "Maybe that's the point."

Havoc raised a brow, hissing slightly.

She rolled her eyes. "I have enough men in this military afraid I'm going to snipe their balls off as it is." She looked over and he just couldn't hide his wide, wide grin. It made her laugh.

Another rarity of their long nights together. She laughed. Something he didn't even think Mustang had heard.

He waved her off, sticking the cigarette in his mouth. "Ah, you just need to find the right guy." he winked, "One that doesn't know your accuracy out on the range." he shrugged, almost regretting the next words as they slipped out. "Though, to me a, a girl that can aim is pretty hot."

She didn't laugh. She just watched him. He ran what he said through his mind. _I'm going to at least get smacked._

Her next words took him off guard. "Take me home, Lieutenant Havoc." She pressed the butt of the cigarette into the tray, pulling herself off his desk, grabbing her dress blue jacket and gun holsters.

He sat straight in his chair, the cigarette almost falling out of his mouth. "Wait-what?" she grabbed his jacket and hastily shoved it at him. She drug the lamp to it's place in the corner and shut it off. He watched as she hustled around the room, quickly putting things the way they were before they came back after their little mission.

She huffed slightly, a smile creeping on her face. She seemed very sure of herself. "Walk me home, Havoc. We'll have another smoke in my apartment." the way she said that made it feel like someone cranked the thermostat up a bit.

He hesitated, before looking between her and his ash tray. _Fuck it_. "Yeah, sure."

He stood, but she had him by the scruff of his shirt, dragging him out of the room, leaving the stale scent of smoke to linger.


	3. Answers

Roy thrummed his fingers against his desk, looking suspiciously around to his subordinates.

Some was going on right under his nose.

Sure! Everyone was _acting_ normal, and everything seemed like it always seemed, but Roy Mustang didn't get to General without noticing things.

But he just wasn't sure 'what' he was noticing.

His eyes landed on his Lieu-Colonel-his Colonel Hawkeye. His Colonel Hawkeye that had been with him since Ishval (and before that, but he doesn't talk about that. Doesn't _think_ about that). She moved between the desk, nose up, eyes down as she made sure each one of them was working. She didn't bother with Falman or Fuery- they were always diligent. She gave Breda-who was staring blankly at his small mound of paperwork-a small clearing of the throat and smack to the back of the head with a roll of paper she was carrying. She plucked the unlit cigarette from a day dreaming Havoc, who was leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. She leaned in close, whispering something-a death threat no doubt-into his ear. The General thought this because of the strange shade of pink the Lieutenant Colonel's ears went as he bent down and began to scribble ferociously on his paperwork. He frowned without looking up to the passing Queen.

Roy slouched over his desk, chin resting in his hand. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. But something _was _off.

Maybe it was just Fullmetal.

He shook his head, washing away _those_ particular thoughts.

He felt like he was being looked at behind a scope. He lazily glanced up to see his Colonel shooting sniper like glares at him. A normal man would have flinched. He, being the ever feared Flame Alchemist, leaned back and yawned lazily.

_What was off_?

"Your paperwork is starting to build up-_sir_." She only said that when her trigger finger got testy.

He slowly gave her a once over. It was _her_! He knew it! "Lieu-Colonel Hawkeye" he corrected himself "did you...get a haircut?"

"Yes, sir." She said curtly. "About a six weeks ago."

"Needs a good shape up." Havoc commented dryly.

She ignored it. Mustang noticed Breda's eyes widen slightly.

He smirked in triumph. He sighed heavily and flopped back over his desk, struggling to pick up his pen. "Very well," he yawned, "take the rest of the day off and get your 'hair done,' or whatever."

"I mean no disrespect, _sir_." Hawkeye's voice was almost as dangerous as her gun. "But I have a feeling you spend more time in front of the mirror than me."

"You also don't own a mirror." Havoc, once again, remarked dryly.

Hawkeye turned on her heel and marched, like she normally did-she always marched-out of the room.

Mustang, scribbled his name lazily at the marked spot before moving the paper over lazily. "I think you upset her, Lieutenant."

Havoc shrugged.

Breda looked at his comrade before turning to Mustang, "She-she does have a point, sir."

Mustang leaned back and yawned. "I'm sure. Us higher ups have to look our best, after all." Mustang looked across at his group. "What is different about Colonel Hawkeye?" Falman and Fuery didn't look up. Havoc shrugged, and Breda stared down at his paperwork. Eyes wide as he did an overly dramatic shrug.

Mustang smirked. Breda knew-and if he had to pry it out of Breda by his toes, he'd get his answers.

But Brigadier General Roy Mustang always got what he wanted.


	4. Defensive

"I've heard…things…" Mustang's voice drawled in a way that only Mustang could. Havoc rolled his eyes, doodling on a scrap piece of paper he found in his desk.

"Where?" Hawkeye's voice was tense and defensive.

"_Everyone's_ talking about it, Lieutenant." Mustang chuckled.

Havoc felt his cheeks heat up as he watched Hawkeye's, tense. "I doubt _everyone's_ talking about, Sir."

Images raced through Havoc's mind; late night rendezvous at Hawkeye's; mornings where she stealthily left his apartment as the sun rose.

Two weeks ago on the Colonels desk.

His fingers tightened around his pen.

"You had to have known you couldn't keep this from me for long. Mustang's voice held a bit of mockery. "And I simply won't allow it."

He was amazed at how Hawkeyes back (sexy, smooth, delicious back) could become even straighter, "I was afraid you were going to say that, and that's why I went above you."

_A…bove?_ His body temperature rose when he thought of Hawkeye 'above.'

"I will not have you stole away by some half rate officer."

"Hey!" Havoc said defensively.

Mustang looked at him questionably as Hawkeye spoke sharply, eyes scarlet "We were talking about my _promotion_ Havoc." The color in Havoc's face drained as he slid low in his seat, crouching over his doodle, returning to his work.

He heard Hawkeye stalk out of the room and Mustang following after a few beats later.

After the door slammed shut Havoc heard a chuckle. "No sex tonight, eh?"

"Fuck off, Breda."


	5. 28 Minutes

Fuery was the 'Comm Man.'

On any 'special' mission, once the team had left Eastern Command, Fuery had 28 minutes to set up communication between Mustang and the field ops. Surfing through static lines, finding the proper secure line was like fine tuning a piano.

But Fuery had perfect pitch.

_Got it_. He smirked to himself, glancing down at his watch. _17:43, a new record. _ He heard Havoc and Hawkeye speaking in low tones about proper hand position and wrist movement. Fuery ripped off his headset, preparing for the Lieutenant Colonel. He'd give Havoc and Hawkeye a little more time to swap tips-he'd barely gotten through his own combat training and wouldn't have been able to follow their conversation anyways.

It was another 5:12 seconds before hew as ready for Mustang. He picked up his headset, adjusting it slightly, opening his mouth to declare they were live when he heard Havoc's agitated voice.

"Well you we're bitching about it last night."

"I'm not bitching about it now." Hawkeye didn't sound _right_. Her voice was softer-almost feminine like.

"I just don't understand why if you didn't _like_ the _rotation_ you didn't just say something."

"It's not that I _didn't_..." Hawkeye sighed. "It's more..." she paused again, as if searching for the right words.

"Pleasurable." Havoc supplied.

"...Yes..." Hawkeye sounded a bit indecisive. "That if you rotate your hips a little less. More linear movements than curved." the last words were spoken quickly. Fuery had a feeling they weren't talking about combat techniques.

Havoc chuckled. "Your face is red."

"Shut it, Jean."

Fuery stared at the radio.

"Anything else you'd like to chastise me about? We only have a few minutes before everyone else shows up."

It was Hawkeye's turn to chuckle. "I have to show you."

The line went quiet as Fuery slowly removed his headset, staring at the crease where the wall meets the floor in front of him. The way Hawkeye said those last words made it...made it..

_Well, it made Hawkeye sound like a girl_.

It made Fuery squirm slightly.

Suddenly, like a storm of fire and flames, the door burst open and Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang barged in. "Are we live yet Sergeant Fuery?!"

Fuery fumbled with his headset. "Ye-ye-yes! We we-we're live!" He said loud enough that whatever _that_ was Havoc and Hawkeye were talking about would get off his line.

"You're late Sergeant." Hawkeye's voice had returned to normal. It clipped and sounded slightly agitated. It slightly unnerved Fuery.

Fuery checked his watch: 29:15.

Breda's voices carried a bit of static as he laughed-Breda was almost out of the city.

"Naw, Fuery was right on time."


	6. It's Something More

Havoc sprawled out in the back row of a small row of pews in a small church. An unlit cigarette hung limply in his mouth. He wore a not-quite navy blue shirt with black slacks and his military issued boots. He hung his arms over the back of the pew, almost touching Fuery's shoulder. Breda was in the seat in the row in front of him. Fallman in front of them.

It was a small congregation, twenty people in the seats, two in the front of the podium with one on the way. Havoc sighed.

"I figured you guys would be up in the front." Edward Elric smacked his shoulder lightly. His wife, he could never remember her name, smiled at him. She held a small girl in her arms and a boy by the hand. Havoc smiled widely, "More room for the Elric clan."

Breda snickered, turning around, "More room for the press. Not every day that the future President gets married."

"He's not president yet-" All four men in the pews snorted.

"Might as well be…" Havoc said, fingers itching to smoke. "Going to be a landslide election."

Alphonse and his wife (who was almost as big as this church) nudged his brother, smiling widely to everyone before ushering his brother to the front of the church near the Hughes'.

Havoc noted that Breda hadn't turned back around. "You gonna' be already man?" Havoc hated when Breda was like this. It reminded him of when he was still in the chair. "Yeah man, I'm good." The organ started to play, making everyone quiet quickly before everyone rose.

Havoc took his time.

His heart beat heavily in his chest.

The organ started playing a dramatic tune as everyone turned. Havoc couldn't help it, he turned to look at the corner of the exit sign. As the woman in white walked past, he followed her back. Her dress was very traditional, yet simple. It was long sleeve that had a high collar. Her veil was opaque white. How she could see out of it, he had no idea.

Roy broke out in a stupid grin, his hands fidgeting. Havoc leaned forward, smiling softly. "Good thing he didn't wear he gloves eh?"

Breda snickered, "Burn the whole place down before the judge got to talking."

Despite himself, Havoc snickered, leaning back, standing straight.

Despite himself, he was smiling. He was happy for them.

For her.

Roy Mustang lifted her veil. She looked _so_ beautiful. Her honey eyes tore from Roy's scanning the crowed. They landed on his for the briefest moment.

His heart stopped.

"Please be seated."

Fuery pulled him down. She tore her gaze back to her very-soon-to-be-husband.

But Havoc was far away.

III

"You really marrying him?" Hawkeye paused, looking back at Havoc who was standing outside Central Command.

"Jean."

"Listen, I understand that you have this 'thing' with the General-"

"Jean."

"But if your heart's not in it-" he was a foot away now, looking down at her. Her honey brown eyes looked from his eyes to his lips before spinning on her heel, grabbing him by the hand.

"I have to show you something."

He let her drag her to her house. Their endeavors started out like this-sort of.

III

"Roy and my relationship is complicated…" Riza had shed her blue jacket and holster as she bent down to pet Hayate. It was strange hearing her say the General's first name. "Roy and I have known each other a long time."

He was leaning against the door, arms crossed as he watched her in her night routine. She would change and grab Hayate's leash from the bedroom and take him for a 3.2 mile walk before coming back home. "Since Ishval."

She smiled sadly, "Not quite." She looked up at him, "I need to show you something." She beckoned him to the bedroom. He tilted his head, though followed.

This was new.

Before he entered the room, Hawkeye's black military issued shirt was on the ground, her back to him.

His heart beat in his ears as his jaw went slack.

A large, elaborate-thing-was on her back. Marred by large burns.

She looked over her shoulder, her face pink. "Roy learned Flame Alchemy from the original Flame Alchemist, Berthold Hawkeye.

"My Father."

III

Hawkeye changed and picked up the leash on her bed and Havoc followed numbly as she clipped the leash on Hayate and started their walk.

It was like a damn had burst and she talked-and couldn't stop. She told him everything, or what he thought was everything. Things he was sure the military didn't know.

"I owe him a lot." She said when they were back in her apartment. Hayate was munching on food. Hawkeye stood in the middle of her kitchen, her arms empty, looking at him helplessly. "This isn't just about Ishval. This is about everything." She looked like she was going to cry. "I don't expect you to understand why I have to marry him.

"I just do."

He crossed the room and caught her tear with his thumb. Despite the guilt already filling his chest, he kissed her, and she kissed him back with as much ferocity as she ever had. She ripped off his t-shirt and jeans as he pulled her top, bra and military pants off before they hit the bed. For the first time in their rendezvous, he turned her on her stomach and ran his hands on her back. He kissed every scar, every mark. He nuzzled her neck as she gasped. Open mouth kisses trailing up her neck. "You so beautiful, Hawkeye." She moaned.

It was the last time he saw her until the wedding nine months later.

III

"Does anyone here have any objections?" Breda looked back at Havoc but he raised a brow._ "What?"_ he mouthed.

The Judge finished the ceremony with a signal for the husband to kiss the bride.

He wasted no time.

As the organ started again and the crowded cheered. As the happy couple walked down, her honey eyes met his again.

He forced a cheesy smile.

She smiled softly.

_I know why you had to marry him. I'm not stupid._ He watched her back as she pasted. _It's because what you have is more than just love._

_It's true love._


	7. Red Lips

He swallowed thickly at the red.

Her fire engine red lips curled into a sultry smile as she leaned against the bar, smiling up at a man behind her.

She was wearing black-which made her red lips stand out against her pale skin. Her blond hair like a silk curtain around her face.

He swallowed deeply, gripping the lounge chair he was sitting in.

Her honey brown eyes, danced across the room as his skin felt like it was on fire.

Her eyes landed on him. Her beautiful red lips disappearing into a tight frown.

His heart stopped.

After three long, painful thumps, her red lips returned, smiling again. But in _his_ direction. _And_ different than before.

Her pink tongue darted out, licking those damned, beautiful, lips.

He swallowed thickly as she rose, sauntering over to him.

She stopped inches from him, holding out her delicate hand. But all he could stare at was her lips as she spoke softly. Almost inaudible.

"Would you care to dance?"

Shaking slightly, he nodded, trying to breathe evenly as he took her hand. He wanted to hold her close, but he held her back just far enough to be appropriate.

Until she pressed close to him-those red lips at his ear. "Let's get out of here."

He gripped her hand tightly, palms sweating. He nodded, his cheek brushing hers before she led him out of the bar, swaying her hips hypnotically.


	8. Blue Rose

"I know they are flowers." Riza's gaze scanned the garden. Bright colors and smells filled her senses as she and Havoc strolled through the physical therapy's garden. It was the first day that the doctor finally allowed Jean out of the confines of the wheelchair to stroll through the gardens with the weather this warm. She watched as he leaned heavily on his cane with his right arm, his left hand gripping her forearm probably a little less that he should be. He was in his sleeveless, light breathable hospital shirt and pants and slippers that looked like something out of Xing. Despite it the beads of sweat on his brow and his white knuckles on his cane, he had a bright smile on his face, his head tilted back, basking in the sun.  
She ignored the fuzzy feeling in her chest.  
"Those to your left are chrysanthemum." He said as brightly as the sun, "They are a pretty sturdy little plant that will take over your garden if you don't watch them." She looked up at him surprised. "They grow back every year, bigger and bigger. You need to cut them back in the fall. But people love them for all the different colors they come in." his eyes scanned for a moment. "Those," he leaned a bit more on her and lifted his cane a bit, gesturing to his far left towards a turn in the path, "they are peonies. 'Cora Louise' if I remember right." They were a white with a little bit of reddish purple near the center. "You plant them in the late spring.  
"Those are 'Lady Orchid'…Pineapple sage …Alstroemeria...Oh! And we can't forget those!" he gave her a cheeky grin as he pointed to a bunch of blue flowers at her feet. "Forget-me-nots." He whispered playfully in her ear.  
"How-?" she stammered slightly.  
He laughed, "My grandfather ran the General Store when I was a kid." He paused for a moment, readjusting his grip on his cane. He winced slightly but continued on. "Always stressed to me the importance of knowing about your basic flowers."  
She looked around flabbergasted. "Basic?!"  
He smiled, "'Most people walk into a store to buy flowers and know nothing of botany. It's our job to help people from making terrible landscaping choices.'" He quoted. "He also said it would impress pretty girls."  
Riza rolled her eyes but smiled, "It is impressive." She gripped his forearm tighter, watching his bright blue eyes roam the garden. She cleared her throat, loosening her grip on his arm. "I think I could tell you what a sunflower looks like. And a rose."  
His pursed his lips, eyes dancing with amusement, "We had blue roses."  
She froze, jerking him slightly, causing him to almost topple over. His grip on her tightened painfully as he straightened himself. "What the fuck-!?"

"Blue roses don't exist." She stated darkly. It was _impossible_!  
He gaped at her, "What?"  
"Roses are red…and yellow…" she stated. "Maybe yellow…and pink! But not-not _blue_." He stared at her before laughing.  
"They aren't common. They are the symbol of love and prosperity." He looked at her for a moment before shrugging, "You have to make them."  
"Make them?" she asked in disbelief.  
He released her arm. "Yeah, but it's a secret."  
She narrowed her eyes before walking past him. "Hey! Wait!" she turned the corner and walking a fifteen feet to a small patch of white roses. She stared with distaste at them.  
"You can't make these blue." She murmured. "Impossible."  
"I bet Mustang would make you some if you asked. Wouldn't be hard with Alchemy." She jumped at the sound of Jean's voice in her ear. Her face reddened as she straightened up, turning to face him. His face looked almost as red as hers felt.  
She tried to ignored how close they were. How she felt she was on fire from his gaze. His hands ran slowly over her arm, stopping at the red mark from when he gripped her.  
"Sorry…" he whispered a little too…_something_ for Riza's taste. It made her heart hammer in her chest. Made her fingers want to trail up his forearm.  
"It's nothing." She gripped his arm, sending tingles down her hand. He was looking at her, no, at her lips as he cleared his throat a little, licking his lips. "You can't make blue roses." She tried changing the subject, but her own voice was a little too low for that.  
He laughed huskily. "Oh yeah?" he was so close. Too close.  
"Yeah." She felt his arm move to her hip, holding it firmly (_for balance!_), leaning in slightly.  
"Well, I guess I'll have to show you, eh?" she knew what was going to happen. She could almost feel it. She squeezed his arm, not encouraging, but to let him know she was-  
"There you two are!" Havoc paused, eyes wide before chuckling to himself, pulling back.  
"Breda!" he lifted his right arm away from her hip, making her feel cold. "I'm teaching the Lieutenant Colonel about flowers!"  
Breda, Fuery and Rebecca turned the corner. Fuery was looking around in amazement. "It's so beautiful."  
"You alright buddy?" Breda quickened his pace. "You look beat. Maybe you shouldn't have pushed yourself today. This path is like, a mile long." Breda put his arm around Havoc, who sagged against his friend's bigger build, sighing slightly.  
Riza huffed. Rebecca laughed, "He would have crushed you Riza.  
"We were doing just fine!"  
"Yeah, we were doing great." Riza felt her face heat up.  
Rebecca noticed.  
So did Jean.  
III  
A week later she was walking into her office, frowning at the group of soldiers cluttered around her desk. The women were looking at her with jealousy and the men warily. Roy was in the forefront, brows furrowed, hunched over her desk. "Sir what are you?"  
"I've never seen anything quite like this." Roy picked up the offending object.  
Riza gasped.  
It was a single Blue Rose.


	9. Convincing Arguments

His elbows rested on his knees, his thumb and forefinger holding his face. "I don't understand what the big deal is." Havoc ran a hand through his hair; his heart was beating fast in chest. _I can't believe we're having this conversation._ "It's not…it's not like anyone has to know." A sad smile spread over his face as he dared to look up at Hawkeye.  
She was sitting cross legged in a chair adjacent to her sofa (where he was sitting). Her hands were in her lap, her brow slightly creased.  
"What about our jobs?" _Dishonorable Discharge_ echoed loudly in the back of his head.  
"You think we'd get caught?" It came out with a laugh of disbelief. "We work for Mustang, not getting caught doing something that could get us Dishonorably Discharged is what our job _is_." He cringed at Mustang's name. He knew Mustang had…_something _going on with Hawkeye. It wasn't physical as she never batted an eye when the rumors of him and women started circulating the office. But she was always so good at covering her emotions.  
Like right now. "Most people wouldn't even realize what was going on." Her eyes were soft.  
"Working together would make it even easier."  
"I doubt it."  
Close proximity, not allowed to touch. It would drive Havoc insane. It already was.  
"When people see us out, they will assume it has to do with some crazy plan Mustang has brewing." Mustang's name again. It left a dirty taste in his mouth.  
"What about the General?" it was asked softly, timid.  
She wasn't looking at him anymore. He inwardly cursed.  
"He doesn't have to know."  
"He'll know. He knows everything-"  
"He doesn't have to know this."  
"But this is-"  
"As long as we're careful…"  
They were silent. Hawkeye uncrossed her legs, crossing them again.  
"It's just…I really like you. And-and I don't want this to be just…" there was a pregnant pause. "What it is."  
What they were? Havoc didn't have a clue what they were. A few one night stands…but one night stands were only one night but it's been six times already…  
"I want to give _us_ a chance."  
Hawkeye looked back up to him. He frowned slightly. He buried his head in his fingers again. _This is never going to work. _He felt the couch sink slightly before he felt her warm, slender, slightly calloused fingers pry his hand away from his hand, lacing her fingers in his. He looked up at her bright eyes.  
"Please?"  
He swallowed thickly. He gripped her fingers tightly as he moved in to her. His body on fire as his heart slammed into his rib cage.  
"Yeah." He whispered before his eyes fluttered shut, his lips brushing hers.  
He could feel her excitement, her happiness, in her kiss.


End file.
